


Another HS Au

by imwiththeunicorn (tiatodd)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2020-12-24 00:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21090098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiatodd/pseuds/imwiththeunicorn





	1. Sicky

You woke up because Mr. Kirkland never snored, but this morning, he was. His chest rose and fell with effort underneath you, and he tossed his head in his sleep. It wasn’t long before he woke himself up, coughing a couple times. You slid off to let him sit up and he did, body wracked by a fit of coughs. “Augh…shit…”  
“You okay, babe?”  
He breathed through his mouth, staring at you a bit dazedly for a moment. “Yes, I think I’b—I’m fine.” He cleared his throat, sniffing.  
“No you’re not, babe. You’re sick.” You stroked his face, gave his cheek a tender kiss, and casually felt his forehead. “You don’t have any noticeable fever. Likely just a cold, I don’t think you have to worry.”  
He groaned, slumping against the headboard. His cheeks were a little bit flushed. “I’m not sick,” he said. “I’m definitely not sick. What time is it? I’m hungry. Would you like breakfast?”  
“Uh…” While your darling teacher was a well-meaning, loving guy, he wasn’t exactly the best at cooking. He tried. He really did, but… “I’m not very hungry this morning. I think I’ll just have cereal.”  
“Right.” He threw back the covers and you stared, letting out a naughty chuckle at the way he shyly tried to conceal his nakedness.  
“Oh come on, it isn’t like I’ve never seen you naked,” you said. “It isn’t like we haven’t _fucked_ more times than I can count on my fingers.”  
Regardless, his face was still red and blushing as he pulled the top sheet off the bed and wrapped it around him. It dragged far behind him as he left the room. “We haven’t had _that_ much…s-sex…”  
“Clearly not, if you’re still stuttering it!” you called, quickly answered by a loud sneeze. And then another.  
“A-ahh—nnchu!” This time, after a brief pause, you heard a thud. “Whoa, ah…”  
You got up out of bed and found him in the hallway, leaning heavily on the wall for support with his eyes screwed shut. “What happened?”  
“Just got…really dizzy, hang on,” he said. He took a sickly sniffle and winced, standing upright. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, he opened his mouth to speak, but instead what came out was “hunnnn—tchou! Hak-chou!” He held a hand over his mouth, bridge of his nose wrinkling up as he moaned miserably.  
“Arthur, you’re sick,” you said softly, combing your fingers through his messy blond hair. “Go back to bed. I’ll make you some tea.”  
“But…but I’m no-t—ah--!” He suppressed the sneeze this time, sighing, but then his body tensed up again and both hands flew to his nose, leaving the sheet to drop to the ground as he “CHOUUU!” Nose and cheeks completely flushed, he gave you weak eyes and begrudgingly headed for the bedroom, dragging the sheet behind him like a giant, sick toddler.  
\--  
“Here you are, sweetheart.” You set his tea on a coaster on his end table, and placed a warm plate of breakfast in his lap. In your absence he had dressed in his pajamas and fetched a fleece blanket, now all bundled up and grumpy.  
“Thank you,” he sighed, taking a sip of the tea. “I can’t believe I’m sick…”  
“Lots of people get sick, Mr. Kirkland.”  
“Shut up,” he chided. “I mean I’ve…been so careful. I _can’t_ be sick. I’ll have to get a substitute for next week and we’re already behind in the lesson plan and I—“  
“Shhhh. It’ll be fine, you’re not that sick,” you said.  
“No, of course I am! I’m running a fever now, I’m sure of it, and I…I feel weak, and I have a headache, and my throat hurts terribly, and I’ve started feeling nauseous…”  
“Weren’t you just trying to convince me you were fine earlier?” You put a hand to his forehead again. “Well, you are a bit hot…let me get a thermometer…”  
“And some pain pills, please?”  
You rolled your eyes but followed the request anyway, prompting him to open his mouth. “Yes, you do have a fever…not a bad one, though.”  
He took a couple aspirin and a deep breath, setting his food aside. “Not very hungry anymore, sorry…”  
“Well, you’re quite the complainer when you’re sick,” you said, snuggling up to his side. “That’s good to know. I might have to break up with you.”  
“What?!”  
“I’m kidding.” You kissed his fevered forehead, stroking his hair lovingly. “You’ll be better very soon, trust me.”  
“No, no, I’m going to need…get me the telephone, I need to arrange for a sub—“  
“No you don’t,” you assured, pressing down on his shoulder as he tried to get up. “You need to stay in bed and rest. If you’re still sick tomorrow night, we’ll worry about it then, but it’s Saturday and you need to rest.”  
“But I can’t rest, I…test! I have tests to grade--!”  
“Arthur!”  
You watched his anxious, flushed face as he slowly relaxed himself, looking down at his hands. “I suppose you’re right…”  
“You’re damn right I’m right.”  
He smiled weakly, and then suddenly his face screwed up into the tell-tale expression of a sneeze. “Hhht—chhhk, hnnnn—chuuh! Bluh…”  
You grabbed a nearby box of tissues and placed them within his reach, for which he thanked you. As soon as he took a break from moaning and groaning and fidgeting, you stroked one of his thighs through the blanket, looking up into his reddened face. “Do you think…you’d feel better if I gave you head?”  
“What?” He froze up instantly, cheeks growing darker. “I’m-I’m-I’m sick! That w-wouldn’t exactly be in your best interest!”  
“Ugh, Arthur. Come on,” you groaned. “Once you have the symptoms of a cold, it isn’t contagious anymore. And we had sex like three times last night. If I was in any danger of getting sick, I’m screwed already. Literally.”  
“W-well, I…”  
“Orgasms are great headache relievers.”  
He stared at you, wide-eyed and blushing hotter than his fever. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, and repeated this action. Finally, he pulled the fleece blanket tighter around his shoulders and looked away. “F-fine…I mean, yes please.”


	2. Hickey

“Hey, Art,” said Alfred, filling a Styrofoam cup with the cheap coffee for which the teacher’s lounge was infamous. “How ya doin’? Heard you weren’t feelin’ well this weekend.”  
  
“Fine, actually,” the blond English teacher replied, lounging with his feet on one chair and his head resting tiredly on the back of another one. “Mostly tired.”  
  
“Second period students wipe ya out?”  
  
“_Yes._ The worst. Just holding out for the last period of the day, at this point.”  
  
“I feel ya.” Alfred came over and yanked the chair out from under Arthur’s feet, spun it around and straddled the back of it, muscling through a drink of the acidic coffee. Arthur let off a disgruntled sigh and sat straight. “Tea again, I see.”  
  
“Coffee again, I see,” Arthur mocked, taking a sip of his own drink.  
  
“I can’t understand why you drink that stuff.”  
  
“Me? You do realize you are the only one here who drinks the coffee.”  
  
“Not true. Beilschmidt drinks it, too. Both of ‘em, actually.”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes, looking up at the clock. As he did so, the left side of his neck was bared to Alfred’s eyes. A light, reddish-purple blotch tarnished the Englishman’s pale skin, just above the crisp collar of his shirt.  
  
“Um…Artie, what happened to your neck?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“Right there,” said Alfred, prodding the bruise. Arthur yelped and clutched a hand over the mark, green eyes growing wide and frantic.  
  
“I-I have no idea,” he stuttered. “Why would you poke it? Idiot!”  
  
“Do not call me an idiot,” Alfred seethed.  
  
“Sorry,” Arthur mumbled, cheeks turning pink. He rubbed the mark worriedly.  
  
Suspicion glinted in Alfred’s eyes. “Arthur, do you have a girlfriend?”  
  
“What? I—“  
  
“Dude, I know what a hickey looks like. Gave enough of ‘em when I was in high school, let me tell you what.”  
  
“A what?”  
  
“Hickey. Love bite. Come on, man, you’re such a virgin,” joked the honey blond. “I mean…unless you’re not anymore.”  
  
Arthur’s cheeks flushed shades darker and he cast his eyes to the ground.  
  
“Oh my _god!_ You lost your virginity to this girl and you never even told me you were together? Who is it?” Alfred asked with bright curiosity, practically hugging the back of the seat he was in. “Oh my god, you’re not a virgin anymore. You guys, Arthur finally got laid!”  
  
“Shhh-sh!” Arthur shushed, ducking his head from the interested stares of the other teachers. “None of your bloody business!”  
  
Everyone else went back to their previous conversations, but Alfred kept at it. “Tell me who, tell me who, tell me who! Augh, I’m so glad you finally have a life…tell me what strange woman is dumb enough to bang you!”  
  
“I resent that!”  
  
“You’re dodging the question, who is it?”  
  
“I, um…”  
  
\--  
  
“See, I said you’d be better before school tomorrow,” you purred, kissing his neck as he moaned wantonly, holding tightly to you.  
  
“Yes, and I need to teach tomorrow, and it’s late, and I should take you home and get to bed.”  
  
“No worries, I’ll just ‘go to school with my friend,’ my parents won’t mind.”  
  
You nipped at his collarbone and he whimpered, half-heartedly pushing you away. “No, I mean I need sleep!”  
  
“You’ll be sleeping like a baby when I’m done with you tonight.” Your teeth tugged on his ear lobe, breath skidding over his sensitive skin, and he let out a shaking whimper, head thudding against the wall in defeat.  
  
“Right, fine, make it quick,” he said.  
  
“Uh-huh, sure.” Your lips fell to his neck again and you started to suck, drawing escalating moans from his kiss-swollen lips. You parted your lips more, taking some skin between your teeth, and sucked harder.  
  
“Ow!” He jerked his neck away and clapped a hand to the bite, where you could already see it discoloring. “It’s not visible, is it?”  
  
“Uh, nope.”  
  
\--  
  
“Come on, tell me! Do I know her?”  
  
“Wha—I um.” He cleared his throat nervously. “You might. She’s, ah, she’s clever. And ah…nice…”  
  
“She hot?”  
  
“I…yes. Very.”  
  
“Well what’s her name?”  
  
“Hey, Mr. K,” you called from the door, casually walking in like you owned the place.  
  
“What are you doing in here?” Mr. Jones questioned. “You’re a student.”  
  
“Chill, Mr. Jones. Cam in for something warm to drink,” you explained, helping yourself. “If you think I’m gonna keep drinking this school’s spoiled excuse for milk when this is an option, you’re insane.”  
  
“Well it _isn’t_ an option,” Mr. Jones emphasized, giving the suddenly-tense Mr. Kirkland a meaningful look. “She do this often?”  
  
“She-she’s…my uh, best student,” he explained. You bit back a giggle when his voice cracked. “You know how that is…not supposed to have a favorite but you do anyway, hah…”  
  
“Is that so?”  
  
Silence fell when the question was asked and you thought it best to get your ass out of there.  
  
The clock ticked loudly and Arthur poked holes in the top of his cup, not daring to look at his coworker.  
  
“Arthur, you can_not_ have an intimate relationship with a student,” he whispered harshly. “It is illegal, it is immoral, and you can go to jail—you _fucked_ a student, Arthur! I can’t _believe_ you would be so reckless. And you call _me_ the idiot.”  
  
“No one’s found out!”  
  
“Well, yeah, except me! I’m not stupid and neither is anyone else. You’re just lucky I’m not Ludwig or Vash, because otherwise you’d be out of a job.”  
  
“You’re not going to tell anyone.”  
  
“No. I’m not. Because you are breaking up with her.”  
  
Arthur sighed, conflicted. “She’s the best thing that’s happened to me in years, Alfred—“  
  
“Oh my god! Just stop! If you don’t take care of this by tomorrow, I’ll—“  
  
“You’ll what, snitch on me? Grow up, Alfred. I am a grown man—“  
  
“And she’s a fucking minor!” He had to choke of into a whisper last-minute to avoid unwanted nosiness, just now realizing he had been raising his voice. “You’re fucking sick!”  
  
“How is it sick if it’s consensual? Look, she came on to _me--_”  
  
“Of course she did, Arthur. You’re young, you’re handsome, you’re smart; tons of students have a crush on you. But you do not act on it! You’re not supposed to _acknowledge_ it!”  
  
Arthur’s eyes begged Alfred to just leave him well-enough alone, and Alfred sighed. “Fine. Whatever, I’m not gonna tell anyone, but I’m not covering for you if someone else finds out. Keep _her_ in line.”  
  
“Easier said,” Arthur mumbled with a relieved slump of the shoulders.  
  
There was a period of silence in which Arthur regarded the clock again. Five minutes until the next class.  
  
“So I wouldn’t ask you the stupid question, but considering you’ve already proven yourself an _idiot--_”  
  
“Please, Alfred, what is the ‘stupid question’?”  
  
“You used protection, right?”  
  
Arthur suddenly felt sick.  
  
“Arthur I should fucking murder you.”  
  
“S-she initiated—I was completely taken by surprise the first time, I assumed she-she had taken…necessary precautions…”  
  
“Taken by surprise? What the hell does that even mean?” Alfred sighed in exasperation, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “You…are…so—“  
  
“Don’t say it! Okay? Do not say it!”  
  
“You do realize that if you got her _pregnant_ I couldn’t cover for you even if I wanted, right?”  
  
“Sh-she isn’t pregnant!”  
  
“Make sure of it.”  
\--  
  
You were a bit startled by the very blunt question on the back of your graded English test:  
  
“You’d tell me if you were pregnant, right?”  
  
You masked the sudden shock with a coughing fit. “Mr. Kirkland, can I talk to you about my uh…test?”  
  
He came to your desk in an instant and you pointed at the red-penned question before flipping the paper. “Ah, yes…that. You…would say yes, correct?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Good. Right. And…uh…your answer to the follow-up question, of course, is…”  
  
“Well, I’m not _positive_ in my result, Mr. Kirkland,” you said, hoping he would get the message.  
  
“You’re not…_positive._”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Oh, well…good, you—you got it correct, so it seems there is no problem.”  
  
He walked away flushed and relieved. You made a mental note to take more care in future escapades.


End file.
